Why the Winchesters Hate Camping
by Shooshkipoo
Summary: Pre-series. Sam is 18, Dean is 22. John thinks that the boys need wilderness training, so he gives them the simple task of kayaking across a lake, gathering food and coming back. Simple right? Wrong.


Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Yet.

Takes place in the summer before Sam goes to Stanford. Sam is 18, Dean is 22.

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The whole mess started when John spoke the dreaded words

"Pack your bags, boys. We're going camping." Sam had rolled over with a grunt and asked what for. Dean didn't react at all.

"You need wilderness training." Answered John curtly, "wake up your brother and let's head out." Sam had then lobbed a pillow across the room at Dean's head.

"Just following Dad's orders, Dean."

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"OK boys, here's what you need to do." said John, pacing, "The two of you need to each kayak across the lake, gather food and water and then come back. Sound easy enough?"

"Yessir." And it would have been easy, for anybody else. But these were the Winchesters. Nothing is ever easy.

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"Starting to get a bit windy, isn't it?" Sam asked nervously as he fought to regain control of his boat.

"Nothing we can't handle, Sammy." replied Dean, trying to reassure his brother. Truth was; he didn't like how stormy the sky looked either. "And hey, you might even grow some muscles after this. Then you wouldn't look like such a scrawny weakling." Dean laughed when a wave of water hit him, courtesy of Sam. Not one to take that sort of abuse, Dean sent a wave back, quickly erupting into a war. The brothers splashed each other, smiling and laughing, but they didn't find it quite as funny when they began their search for food and remembered that they were both completely drenched and wearing jeans.

Neither being a fan of chafing, Sam and Dean reluctantly left their clothing laid out on a rock near their boats. Feeling thoroughly undignified, they set out to search for food wearing only their boxers.

"Goddamn!" Dean burst out in annoyance as he smacked yet another mosquito off his arm "Who the hell thought that mosquitoes were a good idea?" Sam smirked, but couldn't help but agree. Despite the bugs (and there were a LOT), the brothers managed to gather a fair amount of wild berries.

Pleased with themselves, they headed back to where they had left their clothing. Their good moods were gone in an instant.

"Sam," said Dean, standing rigidly "please tell me I'm not seeing this," Sam shook his head sadly

"I wish I could, bro." 'This' happened to be a gigantic black bear, sitting on the rock where they had laid out their clothes and was using said clothing as chew toys. Dean couldn't help the moan of agony when he realized that his favourite Led Zeppelin shirt was in pieces and floating away. The bear heard. Raising its giant head, the bear regarded them.

"Don't move," hissed Sam, standing stock still, "it won't attack unless it feels threatened." The bear rose up onto its hind legs and gave an earth-shattering roar.

"Or," replied Dean conversationally, "we could run for our lives!" Sam didn't need telling twice; the boys turned tail and ran as fast as their legs could carry them. The bear followed. Thankfully they hadn't parked the boats very far away. But when Dean reached the site, he almost cried.

"Are you serious??" he wailed, staring at Sam's kayak that was calmly floating away. The bear roared again, causing Sam to drop his basket of berries in surprise.

"Sam! Get on the back!" shouted Dean, quickly untying his own boat and jumping in. Sam hesitated.

"Sam!" Sam jumped onto the back of the kayak and pushed off just as the bear swatted at him with a large paw.

"God Sam," Dean grunted, sweat beading his forehead, "You need to lose a few." Paddling for the both of them was difficult enough, but they were also lucky enough to be fighting the wind.

"I thought you said I was scrawny." Sam shot back, attempting to stay balanced. This wasn't easy; the wind had risen to a new level, sending a wave of water into Dean's boat. The bow turned towards the shore and Dean fought to go straight. Another wave, bigger this time, hit the boat, almost filling it with water. Knowing that if this kept up, Dean would soon have no control over the kayak, Sam leaned over; trying to find the bailing bucket, but the movement tilted the boat to the side, tipping the boys into the lake.

Sam shook his head to get his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. Dean emerged seconds later, his normally spiked hair plastered to his head. He said nothing. He didn't need to; the glare he gave Sam was sufficient to express how Dean felt at the moment. Sam grinned sheepishly back. They tried in vain to bail out the boat, but it seemed to getting fuller, rather than emptier. Finally, they pushed the boat to a small group of rocks that barely broke the surface of the water and bailed it out there.

"There, that should do it." Sam wiped his forehead. Dean nodded, panting with exhaustion. He looked up, only to see Sam, sliding down the rock looking very confused.

Sam shouted and flailed his arms, making him lose his balance and fall into the lake. Dean burst out laughing. Sam glared mutinously at him from the water, with only his eyes visible. Dean, still chuckling, turned around to check the kayak for any leaks. While his back was turned, Sam snuck up behind him, threw his arms around his waist and pulled him, squawking into the water. Now it was Sam's turn to laugh.

The boys spent a bit of time swimming and dunking each other under water, until they remembered why they were there. Sighing in resignation, the boys got back on the boat.

"This time," said Dean, sliding into the seat, "bail out the boat as we go!" Sam nodded, trying not to smile.

"Yes sir!"

It took a long while, but this time they made it back to camp. True, there were both hunched over and dragging their feet, but they made it. Sam was walking bowlegged, wincing with each step.

"What are you complaining about?" Dean demanded when he noticed. "Look at this!" He held out a hand and stretched out his fingers as mush as he could. Sam gave a whoop of laughter when the hand immediately returned to being curled up like he was still holding the paddle.

"Shut up." Dean grumbled.

"We're back, Dad!" Sam panted excitedly. But he received no answering call. They surveyed the campsite. Their father was gone.

John was nowhere to be found nor was his supplies or the car. They searched for some sort of clue and they found one. Dean's cell phone was still in his backpack. He flipped it open and dialed John's number. To their relief, John answered on the third ring.

"Hi boys," he said cheerfully. Now that he wasn't worried that their father wasn't in danger, Dean got mad.

"Where the hell are you?"

"A thirty-minute drive away from you, sitting in a restaurant eating ice cream."

John held the phone away from his ear, laughing when he still heard Dean's response.

"You're welcome to join me, if you can get here. But if you decide to stay there, I'll come get you in the morning. Your job is to survive overnight with only what I left you." At those words, Sam jumped up and began searching through their bags.

"Dean! He left us the can opener!" Dean was about to smile until Sam suddenly cried, "But he took all the cans!" John laughed again, licking his ice cream cone.

"Dad! Get your ass over here right now! This isn't funny."

"No it isn't," John agreed calmly, "It's an essential skill. When something is trying to kill you, it's not going to be nice about it and give you everything you need. You need to learn to survive with what you have." Before Dean could respond, John snapped the phone shut.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean raged. He whirled around to stare at Sam.

"Looks like we're fishing for food!" With that, Dean stormed off towards the lake, muttering curses under his breath. Sam followed, though he couldn't help smiling at his brother. About two hours later, they managed to catch one fish. By this point, it was about five pm. While they were sitting in front of the fire, waiting for the fish to cook, Sam got a real good look at his arms.

"Owwwwwwww," he moaned, "I look like a boiled lobster!" He looked at Dean, who was now so pink, he seemed to glow. Dean poked his arm experimentally.

"Ow." He mumbled mournfully as he watched the skin turn white and then go back to pink.

"Please tell me that Dad left us the after sun." He hadn't.

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Bobby grunted and pulled himself off his couch to go answer the phone.

"Yeah?" He heard someone sniffle on the other end.

"Hi Bobby, it's Sam."

"What's the matter?" He heard another sniffle,

"How far are you from Bay Lake?"

"About two hours, why?"

"Cuz Dean and I are stuck here and Dad ditched us and we're in a lot of pain." Bobby heard Dean say 'Agony, more like' in the distance.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. There anything I can bring you?"

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The disgusting fish eaten, the boys sat in their tent, waiting for Bobby to arrive. To kill time, they had ravaged the backpacks for any other kind of food and unrolled their sleeping bags. Dean remembered the basket of berries that had survived the journey. There weren't many, but some. Now completely worn out, they collapsed on their sleeping bags and didn't move. A high pitched whine buzzed next to Dean's ear and he swatted the mosquito away. He followed its flying path until it landed on Sam's red back. Without thinking, he reached out and

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Bobby froze momentarily when a loud cry of agony echoed through the trees. Then he broke into a run, worried for the boys. He burst through the bushes to the campsite, frantic with concern until he heard Dean scream,

"I was doing you a favour! It was a mosquito!"

"Yeah right!" Sam retorted. There was the sound of someone getting slapped hard.

"Ow! I'm telling you, there was an actual mosquito!" There was another slapping sound soon followed by Sam stumbling out of the tent, followed by Dean who looked intent on smacking his brother a good one.

"Boys?" asked Bobby. They stopped in surprise. Bobby had to use all his self control not to burst out laughing; Dean had Sam by the hair and both of them were wearing nothing but boxers and had the worst sunburns he had ever seen.

"I brought you the stuff you wanted." Bobby stepped back when they stalked towards him like zombies murmuring 'CoolBeads, CoolBeads' over and over again. He couldn't hold back the laughter this time when he tossed them the bottle and when the boys dove for it, they both cried 'Owwwwwww!' again.

"Feel better?" asked Bobby with a smirk. Sam nodded weakly. Dean poured another large amount of the gel on his hands and rubbed his arms.

"God, I hate camping!"

END

A/N: So, like Econo Lodge, this is based on a true story but exaggerated a little bit. It happened to me and my cousin Kyla (sean and dammy on here). We learned to always put on sunscreen even if it's not sunny. You will get burned and it will be excruciatingly painful. Hope you enjoyed!

Shooshkipoo


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